The End of Memory is The Beginning of God

On Christmas Day, I spent time with my grandmother. We’ve always been close, but this year she didn’t even know who I was. Dementia has taken all of her memories. At one point, I looked over and saw my grandmother talking to a plastic bag. I scooted over to hear what she was saying. When I got close enough, I heard, “God, I didn’t realize you were going to make it today.” Initially, I laughed at the absurdity of the conversation. Then, I realized that I was the one being absurd. My grandmother has lost all her memories and yet believes in the presence of God far more than I do. We think our memories are so important. We cling to them with all that we are. Perhaps, we have been clinging to the wrong thing. Perhaps, the end of memory is the beginning of God.